The Game
by Alexandra Depp
Summary: A game only two people can excel at. There's the pawn and there's the player. But who's the real victor in the end?


If ever there was a question that lingered in Yazoo's mind, it would be always be why? Why did he always allow this to happen? Why was he always subjected to such treatment and why did it feel so right?

Some of these questions had their own answers. He had gone over every possibility in his mind but in the end, there was only one real answer. Love. Love what was fueled his submission. Love was what allowed him to come undone each time. Love for he who had come into his life like the fiery stallion that he truly was.

Quivering lips parted as a soft, barely audible whimper escaped the plush pair and seemingly floated up to the heavens where it would fade into the silence of the dawn. Nimble fingers curled and twirled and fiddled with the silken sheets that adorned the deliciously soft mattress. Long legs shifted and twitched beneath the other pair of limbs that they had been entwined with for what seemed like hours.

Hours, but not nearly long enough.

His silver hair had grown damp with passion-induced sweat and now splayed over the bed he lay on, the shorter ends plastered against his flushed face. Eyes squeezed shut as he willingly allowed himself to become a victim to his own lust and the insatiable lust of the man who would take his breath away each time they wound up together.

He could clearly feel a hot, slick tongue trailing a wet path down his abdomen. Stomach muscles would clench as the tip of that moist organ traced the patch of flesh around his navel. Each time those narrow but wickedly sensual lips neared his midsection, his nerves became a jumble but all it took to calm him was the feel of warm breath against his ear and that very tongue licking along the shell and the voice… The voice that would softly reassure him with just two words.

"Relax, Yazoo."

Relax he would and then the pleasuring would recommence until he was left in a trembling mess of sweat and twined limbs and insatiable need.

Turning his head to the side, the young clone applied a firmer grip to the bed sheets he had been using to his advantage, the feel of even teeth sinking into that special spot just being too much for him.

Once he had discovered Yazoo's weaknesses and needs, there was no end to his exploiting. This specific area, the skin just beneath his ear where a smooth hairline began was especially sensitive. So he paid extra attention to it with gentle swipes of his tongue and teasing grazes of his teeth.

Yazoo knew that he relished in the sounds that he often made. It was nothing the remnant could help. Perhaps it was a surprise that someone as reserved as Yazoo appeared to be could vocalize his ecstasy so freely. Either way, there was no stopping the soft moans emitting from his panting mouth as he attempted to suck in considerable amounts of air. He felt lightheaded. His body was tingling with a known fire. Pretty soon, he would be begging to be taken.

A semi-frantic buck of hips crashed up against the body atop his.

In response to that, he felt clever fingers slide down his arms as tantalizingly slow as they could before those digits found his own and locked tightly. Arms dragged up, hands pressed to either sides of the clone's head.

Yazoo opened his eyes and gazed up at the object of his torment and undeniable desire. His normally frightening green eyes were now glazed over and dimmed around the edges, another result of his heated passion. But those eyes were anything but frightening now. They were desperate. Pleading.

"Please…"

The answer he sought did not come. Instead, he felt burning lips press to his chin and several more hot, open mouthed kisses being rained down his throat before shifting back up and over his own. Warm breath just ghosted over his, mingling with his soft pants.

"Not yet."

The clone could have voiced his frustrations right there and then but he knew that such actions would only further delay that which he wanted so badly. Instead, he opted to lie back and play his game, succumb to the teasing kisses and bites and licks that littered his entire body. He never missed an inch.

Jerking a bit in surprise as he always did when he felt a presence near his groin, the clone gazed down at the lips now wonderfully close to the flared head of his aching arousal. He watched with half-lidded eyes as that teasing tongue came back to life and flickered out, teasing the fine slit he possessed.

A strangled cry escaped him. Regardless of how many times they did this, he would always feel as if he were being taken as the virgin his mind insisted that he was.

Suddenly lips were pressed to another painfully sensitive area. Like a cub not sure of how to respond to the treatment an elder was offering, the silver haired male squirmed in earnest, ticklish sensations traveling up his thighs and directly striking his manhood. He could feel the damp reminder of where that tongue had been, earning another moan from lips that now appeared as if they had been bathed in bloodied passion.

"P-please…"

Yazoo was known for possessing the unmatched grace of a feline but it was remarkable how light he felt each time he was maneuvered like this. In an instant, he felt warm hands slide beneath him and gently cup his buttocks. The manner in which he was lifted was almost enough to have him release right there and then.

It was a position that should have left him feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable. But as he bit down on his finger and turned his head to the side out of pure modesty, all he felt was anxiousness and an ache for whatever was about to happen to commence.

As if on cue, his tight pucker of an opening, which would forever remain beautifully smooth, was engulfed by an organ he knew all too well. The heat of wet kisses and electricity of a probing tongue made his head spin. In one second flat he was rendered helpless, a mere prisoner of his sexual desires. But of course that was not all of it. It was the pent up frustration that only ever added to his want. It was a game he played often, after all. But surprising was the fact how easily he could always fall.

Rolling his head to and fro as he was set back down, the clone's pale chest rose and fell rapidly as wild, emerald eyes gleaming with feral lust gazed worshipfully up at the man in question. The one who always put him through this.

A smile was what he would receive in response before the male would close the distance between them and place a gentle kiss on his pouted lips. "Now…"

And just like that he would feel the penetration and groan with pained approval. This was the game and he was the pawn but never would he want it to end. He could never hate the player. Such things were cemented in his mind each time he felt that pulsating organ comfortably sheathe itself within his welcoming confinement.

But before they became lost within their mingled rhythm for the umpteenth time, Yazoo would add his own twist and change the rules with just four words. "I love you, Reno."

A pause of consideration. A cock of the head. Semi-uncomfortable shifting before a knowing smile crept over Reno's face. A single kiss to Yazoo's lips said it all.

_I love you too. Now let's play…_


End file.
